The Big Dig    3 Lent, March 23, 2025             The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

 “The Big Dig was a megaproject in Boston that rerouted the then elevated Central Artery of Interstate 93 that cut across Boston into the O'Neill Tunnel and built the Ted Williams Tunnel to extend Interstate 90 to Logan International Airport. The project constructed the Zakim Bunker Hill Bridge over the Charles River, created the Rose Kennedy Greenway in the space vacated by the previous I-93 elevated roadway, and funded more than a dozen projects to improve the region's public transportation system. Planning for the project began in 1982. Construction work was carried out between 1991 and 2006. The project concluded in December 2007. The project's general contractor was Bechtel, with Parsons Brinckerhoff as the engineers, who worked as a consortium, both overseen by the Massachusetts Highway Department.”

“The Big Dig was the most expensive highway project in the United States, and was plagued by cost overruns, delays, leaks, design flaws, accusations of poor execution and use of substandard materials, criminal charges and arrests, and the death of one motorist. The project was originally scheduled to be completed in 1998 at an estimated cost of $2.8 billion, US $7.4 billion adjusted for inflation as of 2020.The project was completed in December 2007 at a cost of over $8.08 billion in 1982 dollars, $21.5 billion adjusted for inflation, a cost overrun of about 190%. As a result of a death, leaks, and other design flaws, the Parsons Brinckerhoff and Bechtel consortium agreed to pay $407 million in restitution, and several smaller companies agreed to pay a combined sum of approximately $51 million.” (Wikipedia)

Where was DOGE then? And every year thereafter? Or how about those other institutions that are plagued by people “looking the other way,” maintaining a silence that denies the sin, inaction that not only is unhelpful but is also harmful? Perhaps this is why St. Paul wrote to the Christians in Corinth, telling them that these “failings” of people and organizations, of their leaders and our law-makers, are intended to be examples for us all. And not just examples but also invitations and opportunities for us to correct them, restore them, and renew them for the good of God’s people.

“At that very time there were some present who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. He asked them, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them--do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did."

“Then Jesus told this parable: "A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, 'See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?' He replied, 'Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.'" (Luke 13:1-9)

Our world, then and now, is literally layered with successive political, socio-economic, and religious systems that are built on the broken promises of those who have tried and gone before. We are broken people living with broken systems. These unjust and sinful systems are hard to reform and correct without clear-eyed intention, integrity, and collaboration. It is easy to point to world leaders and blame them for our wars and political ruins. It is easy to point to rebellious people and blame them for our violence. It is easy to point to immoral people and claim that they died because of their indulgences. But reform never was easy. And we are all guilty.

Jesus often levels the playing field in the gospel of Luke. He states that we are all sinners, and our Anglican moral theology reminds us that a sin is a sin is a sin, no matter how large, no matter how small. “Do you think that because they suffered in this way, they were worse sinners than you?” “No,” he says; “but unless we repent, we shall perish as they did.” The Roman armies have become Russian armies and Ukrainian armies. Terrorists of every kind destroy human lives. Diseases proliferate, and nuclear bombs level the playing fields.

Lent is our Big Dig. It is that season in some of our religious traditions when it is an opportunity to look at ourselves and our world and name some truths. We are reminded of our mortality, that we are dust and to dust we shall return. It is a time when we name and claim our sins: personal, systemic, and universal. It is a time when we repent, when we think again about who we are and the choices that we make. Do we choose life, justice and mercy, walking humbly with our God and our neighbors?

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” poet Mary Oliver asks in the poem A Summer's Day. And in her poem, from her book of poems, The Unfolding, Rosemary Wahtola Trommer offers some answers.

So I can’t save the world -

can’t even save myself

can’t wrap my arms around

every frightened child, can’t

foster peace among nations,

can’t bring love to all who

feel unlovable.

So I practice opening my heart

right here in this room and being gentle

with my insufficiency. I practice

walking down the street head first.

And if it is insufficient to share love,

I will practice loving anyway.

I want to converse about truth,

about trust. I want to invite compassion

into every interaction.

One willing heart can’t stop a war.

One willing heart can’t feed the hungry.

And sometimes, daunted by a task too big,

I tell myself, What’s the use of trying?

But today, the invitation is clear:

To be ridiculously courageous in love.

To open the heart like a lilac in May,

knowing freezing is possible

and opening anyway.

To take love seriously.

To give love wildly.

To race up to the world

as if I were a puppy,

adoring and unjaded,

stumbling on my own exuberance.

To feel the shock of indifference,

of anger, of cruelty, of fear,

and stay open. To love as if it matters,

as if the world depends on it. 

Lent is our Big Dig. As we dig around the roots of our mortal lives, we often uncover some things that invite change. As we get our hands dirty, smelling the odor of manure in our nostrils, breaking our backs on the hard work of gardening, we come to realize that digging isn’t just painful, however, but also healing and constructive. We let some things die as we plant seeds for new life. With digging and fertilizing we begin to bear fruit worthy of repentance. We grow spiritually closer to the Light and God’s Love.

Unfortunately, repentance is often considered only an individual and personal activity; but it is also communal and global. Although we can only change ourselves, living only one day at a time, we can make a difference when we join others in creative and collaborative work. Together, we become the hands, heart, and feet of Christ. Faith unrealized and unfulfilled, not actualized and embodied, remains not only dead but it also stinks!

As faithful Christians and moral human beings, we can offer simple acts of kindness and moral goodness every day. As the saying goes, “We can think globally; and act locally.” So here’s a final story from Peace Tales: World Folktales to Talk About which I’ve told before and yet it bears repeating.

 “Once upon a time, a man visited hell, where he was amazed to find people sitting around a table, with all kinds of food piled high. Maybe hell wasn’t so bad, he thought.”

“But then the man looked closely at the people; and they all looked hungry - in fact, they looked like they hadn’t eaten in a very long time. He noticed that everyone around the table had been given chopsticks that were 3 feet long; but the people couldn’t get any of the food into their mouths. And so, the man could see that this indeed was hell.”

“Next the man went to heaven. To his surprise, he saw people seated around a table filled with the same good foods. They also had chopsticks that were three feet long! But this time the man noticed that these people looked happy, full, and satisfied.The difference was that they were using their chopsticks to feed each other!”

This Lent, we can ask ourselves what fruit will we bear before our fig trees are cut down? How will we respond to the suffering of others? And will we speak and act like Jesus, the only One who was without sin, and a perfect example for us all? Repent and turn to the good news of the gospel. Our God is a God of forgiveness and second chances, of Light and Love. Repent and return to the Lord.

 1 Corinthians 10:1-13                Luke 13:1-9

Ash Wednesday 2025

 

Ash Wednesday, March 5, 2025                     The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Joel 2:1-2,12-17               Isaiah 58:1-12                  Psalm 103

Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have made and forgive the sins of all who are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

 There are times when we become more aware of our human mortality. As individuals, we may face a health scare, an accident, or a time of vulnerability and fragility when we face the prospect of our death head-on. Without such reminders of our fragile mortality, we tend to think that life just goes on until we’re faced with a hard reality that it may not. When our blissful ignorance is broken, we often turn to theological questions about life and death, about grace and goodness, about justice and mercy.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, death became real on a global scale. Fears of the virus were universal, and your age, health, and ability to access modern medicine oftentimes influenced your outcome. The value of a COVID vaccination was clear to everyone around the globe. With the flu epidemic rising precipitously in Massachusetts this year, it also became apparent that less people were being vaccinated, which contributed to the surges in illnesses. The outbreak of the measles disease in Texas, and the on-going debate about the correlation of autism with vaccinations, have also contributed to the national debate about the value of vaccinations.

Freedom to make personal choices about getting the “jabs” have entered our discourses, debates, and decisions. Moral clarity has become important and ethical decisions have been rising to the surface of our conversations. Medical injunctions to “do no harm” competed with other types of ethics. Questions about financial costs, quality of life, vulnerability, and human suffering were raised. Legal issues blossomed. Some states enacted “physician-assisted suicide laws” while some people argued that what “God has given only God can take away.” Even now, with the current Pope’s recent struggles with respiratory illness, some people have wondered aloud what his “end-of-life” directives might include. People can change their minds when faced with new realities.

What may be good for an individual (read I don’t want a vaccine) may be deadly for groups of people (read your personal choice affects our communal lives.) It may be “right” and “fair” and “just” for you to make a personal decision and yet your decisions are killing us softly, perhaps even violently. Some argue that the political leaders of various nations are doing just that, making decisions that seem “just” and “right” and “fair” but are causing greater and longer damage to their people. Do we align ourselves with just war theorists or “fight for peace” because “blessed are the peacemakers”? Which Bonhoeffer are you?

I have been reminded frequently in these past few weeks of that familiar nursery rhyme called “Ring around the Rosie.” The lyrics are “Ring around the Rosie; A pocket full of posies; Ashes! Ashes!  We all fall down!” According to Wikipedia, “the origin of the song is unknown, and there is no evidence supporting the popular 20th-century interpretation linking it to the Great Plague or earlier outbreaks of bubonic plague in England.”  It became known as a harmless and fun children’s game rather than a social commentary on a deadly disease.

What strikes me today is two-fold. Ash Wednesday is a time in our liturgical season in the Episcopal Church when we remind ourselves that we are mortal, that we are dust and it is to dust that we shall return. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down. Similarly, it is a time when we remember that we are all guilty of sin: individual, systemic, and spiritual. There are forces of evil and wickedness; and when we are infected by sin of any kind, our spirits become dust and ashes.

Secondly, I think of the horrific wars going on around our world and the thousands of untimely deaths that are associated with that violence. Most notably is the recent tension between the president of our country and Ukraine. Desperate cries for peace have risen with casualties and destruction; while some voices argue that aggression must be resisted at all costs. During war, we are faced with the hard reality of ashes, both human and material. We can see these ashes in the rubble at our feet and in the landscape of our lives. While all boats may rise with the water, we all fall down with war. Everyone loses.

Why would anyone want to put ashes on their foreheads?

Why would anyone want to be reminded of the multitude of our sins, how we have fallen short of our human goodness, let alone the glory of God? Why would anyone want to be reminded of our mortality when life is beautiful, and we are alive?

Perhaps it’s not a question of want but of need? Surely those who have recently endured the hurricanes in North Carolina, and the fire damage and deaths in Los Angeles need no reminders. Surely those in the wars of Ukraine and Russia, or between Israel and Hamas, need no reminders. So too the Sudan. It’s just that some of us are protected by vast oceans on either side of our country. Powerful militaries may keep us temporarily alive and blissfully insulated from the horror endured by smaller, weaker, and more vulnerable nations but the media opens our eyes. Tragedies are undeniable.

          Our Old Testament prophets are known for their dire warnings about the impending gloom for Israel when the “day of the Lord” will be upon them. As Joel proclaimed, “Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the Lord is coming, it is near– a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness! Like blackness spread upon the mountains a great and powerful army comes; their like has never been from of old, nor will be again after them in ages to come.” Unfortunately, Israel has endured and continues to endure invasions from all borders of its country even to the present day.

And yet these prophets have also offered hope during days of darkness. If we return to the Lord, as Joel advises, then perhaps we can also hear the promises of Isaiah. There will be a repairer of breaches in our diplomacy. There will be a restorer of peace in our nations. There will be reconciliation between the nations. “If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday. The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.”

          Hope, as our current vice-president recently said, is not a strategy. However, hope is universal, and religion is intended to “connect” us with one another and to God. Spirituality reminds us, like the movie Wicked, that forces can be both good and evil. However, when and “if we return to the Lord” we may find ourselves on a different news channel, and it’s good news. Indeed, Christians claim that Isaiah identified the Repairer, Restorer, and Reconciler in Chief for all nations to have hope. His name is Jesus.

          Our Lenten season of 40 days and 40 nights begins today. It is a time for putting down some things and taking up others. Put down the hate speech and pick up the love of God, for Christ’s sake!  Don’t be a “hater” for “God hates nothing God has made and forgives the sins of all who are penitent.” Living one day at a time, letting go and letting God, offers us a spiritual serenity and a peace that passes all understanding. We may all fall down; and yet in Christ we are raised to new and resurrected life.

          “Bless the Lord, O my soul. He remembers that we are but dust.” (Psalm 103:1,14)

The Nature of the Beast

 

The Nature of the Beast           The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling            5 Epiphany, February 9, 2025

 Found

“Lost sheep do not find themselves; they are found. You can get lost in childhood and adolescence. You can get lost in a midlife crisis. You can get lost in old age. Jesus will find us – will find you – when you are lost. He will know where to look because he’s been there.” Brother Curtis Almquist, SSJE, February 5, 2025

         Recently I’ve been reading a murder mystery series, 20 books in total, written by Canadian author Louise Penny. The author quotes poetry and scripture throughout her books; she likes art, and to my mind, she hints at spiritual and theological matters frequently. The setting includes the cities of Montreal and Quebec City, as well as a small village called Three Pines. The village is not on the map; and its population includes the diversity of the beloved community. Apparently the three pine trees in the center of the village were a sign of refuge for folks crossing the border from the United States into Canada. Perhaps the three pines also represent the evergreens of the Holy Trinity.

          Her book # 11 is entitled “The Nature of the Beast”, and centers on the atrocity of wars and murders. She reminds us of a massacre in Vietnam and the dark side of our humanity. One central figure, named John Fleming, is a violent and murderous man who has been locked away in a maximum security prison, a place designated for only the “worst of the worst” offenders. His murders were so evil that details were shared only with a small number of law enforcers.

According to Louise Penny’s book of fiction, this man had joined forces with a real man named Gerald Bull who was a Canadian scientist and arms designer. With a third man, named Dr. Guillaume Couture, this unholy alliance of three had built the largest missile launcher in the world, intended to be sold to Saddam Hussein as he edged toward a regional war. Called Project Babylon, the missile launcher was hidden in the woods near the village of Three Pines, and was aimed not across the ocean but rather towards the United States.The artistic drawing on the side of this “Supergun” was a picture of the “Whore of Babylon”, an apocalyptic figure as described in the last book of the Bible, the book of Revelation.

Her story, “The Nature of the Beast”, begins with the shocking and sad murder of a 9 year old boy who inadvertently discovered this “Supergun” in the woods. His child’s play turned deadly when he shared his discovery with others. While the “Supergun” was by then obsolete, the plans of the “Supergun” were not. There were some people who wanted to find the plans and sell them, supposedly worth millions of dollars, regardless of the possible recreation of a deadly force.

Now I’ve often argued recently that the nature of our humanity is good, regardless of the heinous acts we commit or the ways in which we disfigure and distort our humanity. If God created us, and indeed all of creation, and if God is good all the time, then there must be a piece of that indestructible goodness lodged deeply within our souls. Some people think not. They wonder if it is possible that our good natures can become so rotten that they disintegrate within ourselves. From acts of self-destruction or worse, from criminal and evil acts of hate and violence, are we irredeemable? When we’ve lost our way, can we be found? And if “they” find us, what will become of us? Is our salvation universal?

          I hit a spiritual wall recently. My old and new disciplines of prayer went cold. I felt an emptiness, a hollowness, and an apathy that is highly unusual for me. I wasn’t interested in things that had deeply mattered to me before. I was disgusted by certain institutions and people; and I was aware of some resentments that had hardened my heart. I became concerned, even a little bit afraid. What was going on within me?

          I think St. Paul may have been able to understand my state of mind, heart, and soul. After all, he was the one that was chasing down all those new Christians with murderous intentions. Or Simon Peter; he was close behind in his affinity to my spiritual state. Look, I say to Jesus, “I’ve been working all my life and faithfully engaged in all these prayerful disciplines. But now my net is empty, and I’m not quite sure that your suggestion will help. I’ve been out on those deep waters and, trust me, there’s nothing there.”

          St. Paul wrote his letter to those people in Corinth, who may have also been struggling and lost their way. And so he attempts to encourage them. “I would remind you, brothers and sisters, of the good news that I proclaimed to you, which you in turn received, in which also you stand, through which also you are being saved, if you hold firmly to the message that I proclaimed to you--unless you have come to believe in vain.” Despite all that I had received and believed in the past, I was afraid that I had come to that place of “believing in vain.”

          As they say, when the student is ready, the teacher appears. Concerned about my spiritual health I had conversations with three of my closest friends, companions on the Way with me for decades. The first person counseled me to wait, not to worry, that God would show up on time and would show me the way forward. The second person told me to be proactive, to have “coffees” with various people and see where they might lead. And the third person drew me a picture of the mandorla.

          “A mandorla in art is a painting or sculpture used to describe the almond-shaped enclosure which is sometimes depicted around Christ or the Virgin Mary.” (Wikipedia) This friend suggested that two almonds placed side by side, sharing a small overlap in the middle, might offer some guidance. The inner circle in the center (or the overlap) is the place of revelation, with one almond representing a time for “waiting” and the other almond a time to be “proactive.” He reminded me that I am a “both/and” kinda girl.

          Sick and tired, and tired of being sick and tired of the news, I switched over to a radio station that has no commercials and plays contemporary Christian songs. It’s called The Message. As if on cue, the DJ talked about two different postures in our prayer lives. A time for waiting and a time for walking. Both are blessings. It’s the nature of our beast.       

In the year that King Uzziah died the prophet Isaiah saw the Lord sitting on a throne. Like him, like St Peter and like St. Paul, my house (was) filled with smoke. And I said: "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a (wo)man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips." I needed air in my smoke-filled soul. I needed the Holy Spirit to fan the flames of my inner fire.

          Isaiah, like me, was demanding answers. "How long, O Lord?" And so the Lord reminded me of the cyclical nature of the beast. There is creation, yes, and we are good. And yet our creation was followed by sin, a time spent away from the Garden, a place of wilderness, wandering, and wild beasts, where temptations are plentiful, and murder is part of the landscape. In this long story of our salvation, judgment would arrive in the form of a human being whose nature was all good and without sin. Yes, there would be death, a murderous crucifixion and yet the Whore of Babylon would be defeated; for the final act by God was one of redemption, reconciliation, and resurrection. In Christ, we are redeemable people. That is the nature of our beast. That is God’s revelation. And so….

I will give thanks to you, O Lord, with my whole heart; *
before the gods I will sing your praise.

2 I will bow down toward your holy temple
and praise your Name, *
because of your love and faithfulness;

3 For you have glorified your Name *
and your word above all things.

4 When I called, you answered me; *
you increased my strength within me.

5 All the kings of the earth will praise you, O Lord, *
when they have heard the words of your mouth.

6 They will sing of the ways of the Lord, *
that great is the glory of the Lord.

7 Though the Lord be high, he cares for the lowly; *
he perceives the haughty from afar.

8 Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you keep me safe; *
you stretch forth your hand against the fury of my enemies;
your right hand shall save me.

9 The Lord will make good his purpose for me; *
O Lord, your love endures for ever;
do not abandon the works of your hands.

Isaiah 6:1-8, [9-13]           1 Corinthians 15:1-11      Luke 5:1-11            Psalm 138

 

 

 

When Swords Pierce

 

Epiphany, January 6, 2025                            The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

 

O God, by the leading of a star you manifested your only Son to the peoples of the earth: Lead us, who know you now by faith, to your presence, where we may see your glory face to face; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

 

In his article entitled “The Visited Planet”, Philip Yancey begins by commenting upon the change in Christmas cards he has received over the years. Like him, I too have noticed some things, like the shift from Biblical symbols to cultural images. The volume of cards has dropped. Pictures of family members and the “year in review” have accompanied the title “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas.” There are cheerful angels and smiling cherubs on today’s holiday cards and Biblical quotes are rare. I wonder. Are the changes due to waning beliefs or to avoid making offenses?

Yancey claims that the very first Christmas was different in tone and messaging from today. The various Christmas pageants in our churches and schools often usurp the Advent message of being prepared, expectant, patient, and hopeful for the Christ child to arrive. Rather “even those who accept the supernatural version of events concede that big trouble will follow: an old uncle prays for ‘salvation from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us’; Simeon darkly warns the virgin that ‘a sword will pierce your own soul too’; and Mary’s hymn of thanksgiving mentions rulers overthrown and proud men scattered.” The first Christmas story in the Bible carries a different “vibe” than some of today’s holiday cheer.  (Yancey, Watch for the Light, p255)

Sometimes I look for good news in all the wrong places. On Christmas eve, I went to church. I heard not the good news of Jesus Christ, born in a manger, on His mission of redeeming our humanity, reconciling us to God once and for all, and forgiving our sins for eternity. Instead I heard a sermon intended to entertain the masses. He held up the image of a cultural icon who had nothing to do with the gospel, or God or Jesus. Even the cheerful acclamations of “Merry Christmas” rang as hollow as the political promises we hear on the eve of an election. Marketing missed the Message.

Turning to a Christian publication for some spiritual nurture was disappointing for me as well. I found partisan posturing. Yes, like Mary, my soul has been pierced by a sword many times, too often by colleagues and family, but not by who just won our presidential election. Like many people around the world I am praying that “Jesus is our King” and no one else. Instead, in this honorable publication, I read article after article about how to survive my post-election feelings of fear, rage, and disappointment. There were suggestions about endurance. Assumptions about my thoughts and feelings reigned supreme.

Meanwhile, across the pond, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, resigned over his handling of the youth abuse scandal. He wrote, “The last few days have renewed my long felt and profound sense of shame at the historic safeguarding failures of the Church of England.” Failures of such kind are everywhere. Moving east, wars are continuing in Syria, Ukraine, Israel and their surrounding countries. While thuribles may contribute holy smoke to our sanctuaries, bombs and wildfires pollute our airways. Smoking guns are common on our streets and in our schools. Airplanes crash and burst into flames; human bodies are set on fire or mowed down on the streets by a speeding vehicle. Smoke fills the air. Where to go for good news of any kind?

In the Episcopal Church our Christmas season ends after 12 days with the feast of the Epiphany when we celebrate the three kings, aka wise men or magi, who arrive from the east. They are bringing presents to the newborn king in Bethlehem. There is homage and joy. There is hope. Can you imagine that scene in Bethlehem today?! What gifts do foreign kings from the east bring to Bethlehem? To Gaza? To Palestine? Surely not gold and frankincense and myrrh?

“These resins were widely available when the three wise men visited the baby Jesus around 5 B.C.E. and would have been considered practical gifts with many uses. The expensive resins were symbolic as well. Frankincense, often burned, symbolized prayer rising to the heavens like smoke, while myrrh, often used in embalming, symbolized death. Scholars think that frankincense was presented to baby Jesus to represent his later role as a high priest for believers, while myrrh symbolized his eventual death and burial.”(Wikipedia) Surely practical gifts and prayers are needed today!

I like to watch movies that are based upon true stories or ones that reflect the holiday spirits of the season. In a recent conversation with colleagues we shared the kinds of movies we like to watch. I was accused of watching Hallmark movies when home alone. And when it came to watching movies with my grandchildren, the Grinch who stole Christmas was a favorite this year.

“Why was the Grinch a grinch?” my grandson asked me. “Because his heart was too small,” I replied. “But why?” he demanded. And so I told him that the Grinch had grown up in an orphanage and that he didn’t have a Mommy and Daddy like him. So his heart had been hurt and so it remained small. Isolated, he decided to hurt others. But then, after feeling the love of the “Who’s” in “Whoville” and being invited to sit at their holiday table, the Grinch’s heart grew many times over. It is a classic story of forgiveness and redemption and the power of love over anything material.

I confess that I’ve been “grinchy.” So this Christmas, I prayed that the Christ child, who was born in that manger long ago, and will come again some day in the future, would come again into my heart this new year. I prayed that as I receive the love of God through Jesus and the Holy Spirit, I will be able to share that very same kind of love with others. My new year’s resolution? I want to be a “Who.”

“The writer of the gospel of Matthew sets up two diverging roads when contrasting the brutal Herod the Great with the Magi. Herod is fearful; the Magi are faithful. Herod deceives to cling to power; the Magi bow before the young Jesus. Herod cannot find Jesus, who is right under his nose; the Magi locate him from afar through a heavenly sign. Herod is Rome’s client king; the Magi seek the true king.” Epiphany, this author continues, “reminds us that God is available to all and is found along unexpected paths, including paths that we wouldn’t have taken or that make us uncomfortable. With God, all those roads lead to home.” Good news there! (Xian Century, Lisa A. Smith, p24, January)

Christ invites us to His table with grace. Such grace is undeserved and unmerited. Freely given, God’s love can be shared with those we hate. Even with those who pierce our souls.

 

Isaiah 60:1-3

“Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.

For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; 

but the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you. 

Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.

 

Psalm 72:1-7,10-14

Give the King your justice, O God, * and your righteousness to the King's Son;

That he may rule your people righteously *

and the poor with justice;

That the mountains may bring prosperity to the people, *

and the little hills bring righteousness.

He shall defend the needy among the people; *

he shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor.

He shall live as long as the sun and moon endure, *

from one generation to another.

He shall come down like rain upon the mown field, *

like showers that water the earth.

In his time shall the righteous flourish; *

there shall be abundance of peace till the moon shall be no more.

The kings of Tarshish and of the isles shall pay tribute, *

and the kings of Arabia and Saba offer gifts.

All kings shall bow down before him, *

and all the nations do him service.

For he shall deliver the poor who cries out in distress, *

and the oppressed who have no helper.

He shall have pity on the lowly and poor; *

he shall preserve the lives of the needy.

He shall redeem their lives from oppression and violence, and dear shall their blood be in his sight.

Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage." When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

`And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,

are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;

for from you shall come a ruler

who is to shepherd my people Israel.'"

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.